rome

Today we visited the Galleria Borghese. The gardens are four square acres of lush landscaping with statues and fountains dotting the pathways. The galleria houses what was once the private collection of the Borghese family including sculptures by Bernini and art by Caravaggio and Raphael. The sculptures were amazing. Jeff was most moved by The Rape of Proserpine while my favorite was Apollo and Daphne. The realism and details used by Bernini transports you to a place and time where you believe that Pluto has selected Proserpine as his bride as she struggles against his strength or Apollo pursues the fair Daphne even as she is transformed into a laurel tree to escape him. After using my imagination to complete sculptures without heads or arms or heads and arms, fully formed bodies was refreshing. It is also a reminder of all that was lost.

Galleria Borghese is just North of Barberini Square home of the Santa Maria della Concezione dei Cappuccini. Beneath this unassuming church is perhaps the most horrific thing I have seen. It is so disturbing, I cannot believe that it is real. It looks like something from Ripley’s Believe It or Not. To instill the proper mood, read the rest of this post with Vincent Price as the narrator. Beneath the Santa Maria della Concezione dei Cappuccini is the Capuchin Crypt. The Capuchin friars believed in resurrection and as such, their mummified and skeletal remains (an estimated 4,000 friars) are arranged in funereal art in the six rooms of the crypt. As I descend into the crypt, I am at the beginning of a long hallway in front of a shrine. Already, I can see the bones. The hallway closes in on me and my flesh is clammy. There is only one way to go although I look back to be ensure an escape route.¬† There is a sign warning visitors not to touch the bones. Yeah right… Because that was MY first thought. Jaw, pelvis, skull, leg, arm, vertebrae, knee and other bones that I am too freaked out to spend time identifying are stacked, nailed to the walls, hung from the ceiling, and otherwise positioned to create florets, butterflies, clocks, hourglasses, chandeliers and other shapes.¬† In the last room, is the macabre masterpiece depicting death with a scythe and his weights to judge good and evil. My friends, I am here to tell you I don’t want to be anywhere near Barberini square if resurrection day comes.

If you are looking for corresponding pictures, unfortunately the Capuchin Crypt and Galleria Borghese do not allow photography. I do regret not getting a picture of my face before and after the crypt. Jeff says that he has rarely seen me so unsettled.

Halfway through the trip, we had a day of rest. Nothing planned other than some much needed laundering. I don’t recall if we mentioned this, but we went the carry-on route for our luggage checking nothing. Ambitious, but completely worth it. Lucky for us, there was a laundromat very close to the hotel. We bundled up our two loads of laundry so that no unmentionables accidentally dropped to the cobblestones. The laundromat attendant was friendly and while he handed ME a love poem, i think he was quite taken with Jeff. This is a point of debate.

The first step in the Caesar Shuffle is the Colosseum. I had seen pictures of the site on TV as early as February and I was not expecting to be “Wowed”. I figured the pictures and guide books only showed the good side and the rest would be tumbled down. I was mistaken and I couldn’t be more delighted to be wrong. The arches high overhead that mark the entrances to the building were magnificent. They really give you a sense of how 50,000 people could be moved in and out for an afternoon of games and entertainment. You can see how designs of current sports arenas were influenced by Roman ingenuity.

Step two is Palatine Hill. The birthplace of Rome tells the tale of Romulus and Remus of Augustus and Julius. Part of the House of Augustus tour gives you access to three rooms that have been restored with the original frescoes uncovered. The artwork is a vibrant red with tall columns and haunting figures of Romans with only sketches to define their forms. One was rumored to be Augustus’ study. What decisions were made where I am standing that affected 2,000 years of civilization? We stop and ponder over a picnic of olives, cheese and fruit that we brought on our trek.

Step three is the Forum. The layers of history are evident. When we think of history we think in terms of 18th century or in some cases 20th century. Here we are talking about 100 years BC or 2,100 years ago when 1,000,000 Romans inhabited the space where we stood. As facades were built around old temples and Roman architecture others were buried by years of neglect and “progress”. The result is a jumble of ancient sites that overwhelm the senses with a swirl of marble and brick. One particularly poignant site was the Temple of Caesar. A stream of people stopped to pay their respects to a man that crossed a river, ended a republic and altered the face of the Western World.

We had a fantastic time doing the shuffle with Julius and the crew. My impression of how ancient Roman men and women lived has changed. I thought they were simple people who were led around by whatever idol was handy and ritual was popular. I found that they were as vicious as any present day politician and I would not want to meet them in a dark alley.

Our fourth day we woke (very) early and caught the express train from Rome down to Naples. We thought we might snooze on the way but ended up in a compartment with fairly talkative Americans. George and his friend “Sid” (Some Italian Dude) were both from New Jersey. George had been backpacking around Europe for several months, and Sid had come over for a few weeks to see Italy and meet some distant cousins of his in Naples. We talked about Italy (all liked it), which country was the friendliest to tourists (Germany), whether Americans were actually rude tourists or if we just got associated with our country (both), and where the Statue of Liberty is really located (New Jersey).

From Naples we caught a commuter train down to the ruins of Pompeii. We got seriously confused trying to buy a ticket for the commuter train, but Dannie made friends with a homeless, toothless man who insisted, no, demanded that he help us. After defacing our travel guide and yelling at us, we ditched him and found the long walkway down to the commuter train. It was here that we jumped on entirely the wrong train.

Realizing we were screwed shortly after the doors closed, some very helpful locals who spoke very little English helped us figure out how to get back on track. There were some stressful minutes on a very nasty, dirty station in the middle of nowhere, but it all worked out.

I’ve always been fascinated by ancient things, so Pompeii was basically a must-stop for us. I knew a lot about the history, but was surprised at how large the excavation was or how much they let you wander around. We picked up a free booklet and set out for three hours of wandering the bumpy cobblestones.

After the size, the biggest surprise for me was how little had changed in 2,000 years. The streets were a grid, with major thoroughfares, side streets, one ways, and pedestrian walkways. There were sidewalks. Little houses and apartments butted up against huge homes. Bakeries made bread for street vendors to sell. Fast food shops (McPompeii’s?) lined the major streets where people could grab a quick bite and get back to work.

Strangely it was the streets that made the place real for me. Every day Pompeii flooded the streets to wash them clean throughout the city. So across the end of each street they put large stones that were the height of the sidewalk and shorter than the width of a chariot. That way pedestrians could walk across when the streets were flooded, and the chariots could drive over the top. To the side of each of these stones were ruts dugs into the hard cobbles by the chariot wheels. It was such a little thing, yet so practical and real that it somehow made it all hit home more than the crumbling walls and pillars. Twenty thousand people.

Many of the buildings were in amazing shape, with the images still clearly visible on the wall. The Pompeii citizenry was much less hung up on the topic of sex than we are today. One building had a large picture of Priapus, weighing his… asset… on a scale. It was a blessing of fertility and prosperity. The brothel had pictures on the walls of many different sexual positions, possibly for use as a menu for customers.

Pompeii is home to a large number of stray dogs. Friendly and pretty darned cute (if a little scruffy) they snoozed in the shade and gardens of ancient homes. Crowds going by didn’t disturb them in the least until they got hungry.

We caught the train back to Naples with no wrong turns this time, and took some time to poke around Naples near the train station. Similar to Rome but a little grittier, maybe on a future trip we can spend more time. We rolled into Rome about 9:00pm (Dannie slept most of the way), and tried some more wine and another Cuban cigar until we basically passed out. Another good day.

I love coffee in Italy. I’m a light coffee drinker, and enjoy a good espresso from time to time, but more often favor sweeter drinks like lattes and mochas. I try to frequent independent coffee shops, but Starbuck’s is fine in a pinch.

In Rome coffee shops are little bars. You pay the cashier for what you want (cafe espresso, capuccino, etc), then take the ticket to the bar. The barista takes the ticket and whips out a saucer and spoon. A few moments later your drink appears. Drink it up then make way for the next customer. The barista does nothing but make coffee, and never has to handle the dirty money and keep washing his hands.

And the coffee is just so very good. I’ve had one bitter shot the whole time I’ve been here, and even tiny little places make better shots than I get anywhere in Arizona. The cappucinos are my favorite, with a light foam that’s worlds different from the heavy stuff I’m used to. On the funny side, I’m obviously enough of an American that they keep assuming I want “cafe americano” or “American coffee” and I have to clearly ask for the espresso.

I wish we had places like this in the US. Maybe in large malls or some place you could get lots of walk-up traffic to help it catch on. I’d go out of my way for coffee like this regularly, and I am sure others would, too.

I’m also fascinated by how people smoke best e cig and cigarettes here. First, it seems like everyone smokes. Babies smoke. Dogs smoke. Most of the statues smoke. The difference is many of them smoke as an accessory rather than just for a fix. I’ve seen both men and women chain smoking to keep themselves hopping, but I also see many people light a cigarette and just wave it around for emphasis and punctuation, barely taking a puff or two. Women seem to do this more than men, and I’ve found that as much as I dislike cigarettes they can actually make it quite sexy. Freudian metaphor at work on my subconscious? Maybe, but it still connects. I just wish i had a vape pen it wasn’t so stinky. Or so fatal. But other than that it’s pretty cool.